


Drastic Measures

by spinninginfinity



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-15 04:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinninginfinity/pseuds/spinninginfinity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donna attempts to persuade Josh that growing a mustache is a bad move. Shameless, deeply silly fluff.</p><p>
  <i>‘It’s not spontaneity when you have the thought and then have to wait a week to see any decent results, and by “decent” I mean “horrifying”.’</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drastic Measures

‘How would I look with a mustache?’ Josh asks, as he and Donna sit eating breakfast in the Mess one morning.

Donna swallows her mouthful of cinnamon toast and stares at him until she’s sure he’s not going to come out with a punch line. ‘Um. Is this like a—a midlife crisis, or something? Is that what we’re talking about right now?’

‘No.’ He frowns. ‘We’re talking about… me growing a mustache. You don’t think that would—’ He breaks off at her look. ‘No?’

‘Really not.’

‘I think it would suit me.’

Honestly concerned, she asks, ‘Do you feel okay?’

‘I feel fine. I’m feeling spontaneous.’

‘Spontaneous,’ she repeats.

‘Yes.’ 

For reasons passing her understanding, he looks pleased with himself. She glances at his omelette, calculating the possibility of someone having slipped something into it. ‘Well, you should rid yourself of that feeling as soon as possible.’

He gives her a hurt look. ‘You’re talking like spontaneity is a bad thing.’

She’s utterly bewildered. ‘Why are we talking about spontaneity at all?’

‘I think I should do more things, you know. Spur-of-the-moment kind of things.’

‘And the first spur-of-the-moment thing you want to do is grow a mustache?’

He shrugs. ‘It’s a thought I had.’

She really hopes it’s not the omelette; she’s stolen at least a third of it. ‘Okay, apart from anything else, you realize mustaches don’t grow instantly, right?’

‘So?’

‘So it’s not spontaneity when you have the thought and then have to wait a week to see any decent results, and by “decent” I mean “horrifying”.’ 

‘Donna—’

‘And we’re getting sidetracked from the real point here, which is that as your assistant, as your friend, as someone who regularly has to walk down crowded corridors with you, I am not letting you grow a mustache.’

‘Not “letting” me,’ he scoffs. ‘How’re you going to stop me?’

Donna leans forward, propping her chin on her hand and narrowing her eyes at him. ‘Is this one of those things where it started as a random thought that you had no intention of following through with, but now that someone’s told you it’s a bad idea you’re actually going to do it because you’re too stubborn not to? If so, I take it back. You should totally go for it. I’m only sad that we’ve been deprived of you with a mustache for this long already.’

‘See, now I’m going to grow one because you’re snarking me.’

‘You’re going to grow ridiculous facial hair to punish me?’

‘I have important work to be getting on with,’ he says loftily, standing. ‘I’ll see you upstairs.’

‘I’m going to persuade you out of this!’ she calls after him, and deciding it’s probably safe, pulls the remains of his omelette toward her.

***

‘Josh, wake up.’

‘Donna,’ he mumbles as he opens his eyes and her face swims into view, ‘I have this one day off. My first day off in weeks. _Your_ first day off in weeks. Why in God’s name would you come over here at—’ he squints at his alarm clock ‘—six-thirty in the morning to wake me?’

‘I need you to sit up and pay attention,’ she says, and thrusts a hand mirror in his face. It takes several seconds before it dawns on him what he’s looking at.

‘You drew a mustache on me?’ he asks, wincing as he pulls himself upright.

‘Yes.’ She’s sitting on the edge of his bed, one leg folded neatly over the other, looking demure and serious and not at all like someone who’s just drawn on a sleeping man’s face.

‘How old are you?’ he demands. ‘Nine?’

‘I’m just looking out for you.’

‘This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I gave you a key to my apartment.’

‘I felt the situation called for drastic measures.’

He huffs and examines himself in the mirror again. ‘When I said “mustache”, I didn’t mean like this.’

‘What did you mean? Did you mean one that you could twirl, because if you did, that enters levels of insanity that I’m not sure even I can help you with.’

‘I meant an actual mustache, for one thing, not a—God, Donna, that better not be permanent marker.’

She rolls her eyes. ‘I’m not an idiot, unlike certain other people in the room. Is it going to take you actually growing this thing for you to see it’s a terrible idea, because I wasn’t kidding, I’m not being seen with you. I’ll go on vacation from now until you come to your senses.’

‘Donna, I _was_ mostly kidding.’

‘Even so, I wanted to bring you right round to a “Never in a million years” sort of mindset.’

‘Look, I really don’t get why you’re so opposed to it!’

‘You don’t get it even after seeing _this_?’ She takes her hand mirror. ‘Fine. I hope you realize that if you ever do this, no women are going to want to kiss you.’

‘How do you figure?’

‘Girls seldom make passes at men with mustaches, Josh.’

‘I’m not sure that’s exactly how the saying goes.’ 

She waves a hand. ‘You know what I mean. It applies here.’

‘My mustache will have pages dedicated to it all over the internet and you know it.’

‘Yes, from people even more crazy than you. Look.’ With a sigh she leans into him, so close that their noses almost bump. ‘You see how, if I was kissing you, a mustache would be pretty distracting?’

Josh blinks rapidly at her. It’s really far too early in the morning for Donna to be putting her mouth so very close to his. _Any woman_ , his brain corrects. It’s nothing to do with Donna herself, of course. ‘Uh…’ he responds, ‘not really.’

‘Josh! When we were leaning in it’d be right in my line of vision, and when we actually kissed it’d be all scratchy, and it just wouldn’t be a pleasant experience for me, do you see?’ 

If possible, she leans even closer. Josh feels his breath hitch.

‘Um, Donna?’ he breathes. He can make out every freckle on her face. ‘I’m not sure this is really the most appropriate way to, uh… t-to illustrate the potential pitfalls of—’

She meets his eyes, smirking. ‘Drastic measures,’ she reminds him.

‘Right,’ he says hastily. ‘Yes. Right. I see it now. How it would be uncomfortable for you.’

‘Good.’ She pulls away, clearly satisfied. He’s relieved and disappointed in equal measure.

‘And of course I wouldn’t want it to be uncomfortable for you. For women! For any women that I might happen to be, you know.’

‘Of course.’

‘Kissing.’

‘Yes.’

‘I think I probably won’t grow a mustache.’

‘You’re no longer feeling spontaneous?’

‘No. I was mostly kidding anyway about that.’

‘I’m pleased to hear it.’

‘I mean, I can be spontaneous in other ways.’

‘Yeah?’ She smiles. ‘Like what?’

_Like spontaneously having passionate sex with my assistant._

‘I don’t know,’ he says, voice pitching about two octaves higher than normal. ‘I’ll think about it. I’ll tell you later. Are you—leaving? Soon?’

‘Oh, that’s nice. I specifically come over to save you from your own mad brain and you kick me out without even offering me breakfast?’

‘Well, you can stay if you want; I’m just—I mean, I was just wondering.’

‘Josh.’ She pats his leg, which helps him not one bit. ‘I’m messing with you. I’ve got stuff to do today.’ She stand, gathering her things together. ‘Give your face a scrub with soap and water, should take it off fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

***

‘No, no nononono!’ Donna shouts, as CJ goes to open Josh’s office door the next day. She hurries to put herself between CJ and the door, spreading her arms across its width. ‘You can’t go in there.’

CJ looks taken aback. ‘What, are you guarding the Cullinan diamond? I just need to ask him something; I’ll be two seconds.’

‘What do you want to ask him? Tell me; I’ll ask him for you,’ Donna says brightly.

‘Donna, what’s going on?’

‘Okay.’ She tilts her head back against the door. ‘We’re having a slight ink-based crisis.’

CJ pulls a face. ‘Did he explode a pen over himself again?’

‘No, it’s more, you know, I drew on him. With a marker that, by the way, definitely did not have “permanent” written anywhere on it.’

‘You drew on him?’

‘He was sleeping.’

‘Why?’

‘I was trying to persuade him he’d look bad with a mustache.’

CJ gapes at her. ‘He’d look _terrible_ with a mustache.’

‘That was the point I was trying to make.’

‘Absolutely terrible.’

‘I know.’

There’s a long silence.

‘Hey, forget it,’ CJ says, with a sudden wide smile. ‘If Josh is feeling embarrassed I don’t want to bother him.’ She turns and heads back toward her own office, calling over her shoulder, ‘I can just phone him about my thing, or… email him, or whatever.’

‘Thanks, CJ,’ Donna calls back in relief, and goes about figuring out how to get Josh out of as many of today’s meetings as possible.

***

_**From:** cj.cregg@whitehouse.gov_

_**To:** josh.lyman@whitehouse.gov_

_Hey,_

_Got a question in my briefing this morning, nothing major but just wanted to confirm that you didn’t discuss 482 with Congressman Lorne during your meeting on Friday—can’t imagine why it would have come up but I want to be sure so let me know. Thanks!_

_CJ_

_P.S. Also, Donna told me about the discussion you had the other day re. you growing a mustache. Can’t believe she tried to talk you out of it; I think you’d look great._

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is welcomed and hugely appreciated!


End file.
